


Goodbye, John

by latenightreading



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latenightreading/pseuds/latenightreading
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John moves out of 221B Baker Street</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye, John

“Sherlock” John tried to coax him out of his trance

 

“Yes, what is it John?” the taller man says in a rather annoyed tone. Bothering Sherlock during his thinking process was as worse a crime as any. But John thought that the consulting detective would at least have one minute for him. Especially now, John thought he would gain some kind of small show of affection from his flatmate.

 

But Sherlock was too absorbed in a case. The black haired man was playing his violin at the window as always, occasionally stopping to write down some notes. He was turned away from John, not even making eye contact with the shorter man.

 

They had spent a long time together, most of the time they were solving cases but that wasn’t the point. He was Sherlock’s friend. His only friend. Was this genius so much of a sociopath that he couldn’t understand the mores of the situation called for, at the least, a word of goodbye?

 

“I’ve gotten all my things, just that one box and I’ll be...” John stops picking up a small box “Are you using nicotine patches?”

 

“Yes” Sherlock eyes the box in his friend’s hand

 

“Why are you using nicotine patches?”

 

“Will you give me a cigarette?”

 

“No” Sherlock tilts his head slightly, implying that John gave the answer to his own question. They were trying to go cold turkey on all the drugs and clean out Sherlock’s system. John thought it was going well but then the sign of the patches worried him.

 

“Sherlock, we talked about this. We had a deal that you would stop. It’s not healthy.”

 

“It’s a three patch problem John.”

 

“You said -”

 

“Is that all, darling?” a rather young woman comes through the door. Her name was Mary, John’s fiancé. The reason John was moving out in the first place. He was going to be married.

 

She was petite, with rosy cheeks and dark black hair. They met before; where or when wasn’t important. What was of concern now was that they were moving in together. John was leaving. Sherlock gave Mary one look before working at his composition again. He was playing such a lovely tune.

 

“Yes, I’ll meet you outside. I just want to say goodbye.” John smiled meekly at his wife to be. She peeked over John’s shoulder at the other man. It didn’t seem like there were any goodbyes needed to be said. The consulting detective could not be bothered.

 

“Don’t be too long” she said cheerfully before turning away.

 

“Sherlock, you’ve been an okay friend to me and I’d like to think I’ve been a good friend to you. The least you could do is to bloody look at me, Sherlock!” John grits his teeth and the taller man finally faces him “Thank you. Not... not just for that but you took me in when I felt lost. I’ve seen so many incredible things with you.”

 

“It isn’t like we aren’t going to see each other again”

 

“I know but... yeah... I can’t thank... Thank you” John straightens up “Thank you, Sherlock. I’ll see you around”

 

Left alone in his apartment, the silence suddenly deafening. He put down his violin and carefully walked to spot John was just a minute ago. Sherlock’s slender fingers fell to the back rest of the chair; a spot John was holding. Small scratches on the wood meant that his friend had been gripping on to it tightly; perhaps in annoyance, most likely in frustration.

 

One glance and Sherlock could observe the truth written on your clothes, smeared on your face. One all comprehending look, Sherlock could tell who you were. After so long being together, he wondered if John had learned a little bit of his skill. Would John be able to see a little bit of the truth?

 

The truth.

 

There was no case, no three patch problem. Sherlock didn’t need time to think, all he needed was a distraction from reality. Because the truth was Sherlock loved John.

 

But John would never love him. He said this to himself often. ‘John would never love me’ It was an impossible feeling to give someone like himself. To love him would be suicide. There were moments when Sherlock thought that John felt the same way; little acts of kindness and warmth. He came to his rational self right after saying he just saw what he wanted to see.

 

He took a deep breath, sinking in to the couch he had rested on so many times before. Sherlock took out a small stick, one cigarette and lit it. Smoke slithered out of the small stick as if dancing to its own music, slowly making its way to the ceiling.

 

“Goodbye, John” Sherlock murmurs


End file.
